


Old Suits and Other Things in Tony's Closets

by FalabaWitch



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:50:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalabaWitch/pseuds/FalabaWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stark Towers, should have been enough to house the Avengers once they all agreed to live with him and not at SHEILD Headquarters, or in some remote Southeast Asian country, or in another universe. Apparently not. And now Tony has to go clean the old Stark Manor out because Pepper is forcibly relocating them so they don't cause too much structural integrity damage. So he drags Steve along to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Suits and Other Things in Tony's Closets

Stark Towers, should have been enough to house the Avengers once they all agreed to live with him and not at SHEILD Headquarters, or in some remote Southeast Asian country, or in another universe. Because really, they all had their own individuals floors, not just room, and the place was pretty damn sturdy surviving an alien attack and all that, so it shouldn’t have been too harmful to anyone slash thing.

But apparently, the big guy, Mjonir, and the occasional flying punching bag or stray explosive arrow disagreed with Tony’s assumptions, so much so that half the time there were at least three different holes in the walls of Stark Tower at a time. This made Pepper unhappy, which made Tony unhappy, which made most of the Avengers annoyed because Tony was being annoying and whiny.

Which led Tony Stark and Steve Rogers to where they were at that moment, standing outside a huge Mansion in the middle on New York, old rusty, and still equipped with furniture and the appliances from the late 80’s. Pale fading colors, linoleum flooring, the whole shebang. Tony looks at the entrance hall as if it had personally offended him when he walked in, and blew off a small layer of dust that had settled on the painting by the door. He paused, and looked closer for a moment.

“I always hated that thing,” He said as he passed by it, and Steve raised his eyebrow as he watched Tony, but followed him without a comment.

The living room looked like it was out of a dreadful daytime drama, and Tony gestured grandly at it as they entered, “Welcome to my childhood home, and, more importantly, what will probably be the Avengers new home because I don’t really care if you blow holes in these walls. Hell, it surprises me that it’s still even standing, I haven’t used this house in decades,”

Steve came up behind him, and took a cursory glance around, trying to figure out this house, “ You just have an extra mansion lying around New York?”

“I have a lot of extra houses just lying around, but I like those houses more than this one. Now upstairs captain, we are here for a reason other than just to look at the out of date decorations. There is some stuff that either I would like to keep, or I would be killed by Pep for not keeping.” Steve obediently followed him, peeking around corners in the mansion and he realized just how big it was. The corridors he saw stretched down what seemed like miles, and he wondered how the hell the Stark family had found a plot big enough to build this in the middle of the city, before realizing the Howard had probably just bought out the block.

Steve looked at the back of Tony, and thought about his old friend (except, not old to him since the 40’s were less than a year ago in his head). He’d been told that Howard had searched for him for years, only giving up hope after almost a decade, during which time he married Maria Stark nee Carbonell, and they gave birth to a son, Anthony Stark, and he went down in history as a great man.

That was the official record. But he sees in Tony’s eyes at the mere mention of his fathers name the pain, the guilt, the neglect. It makes him doubt who exactly his friend had been, what had made him change from the bright, cocky scientist to a cold, alcoholic father. And what scares him more is the question of how had Peggy changed once Steve was gone.

He pushed the thoughts about his past away, focusing on Tony’s inane babble here and now about how if Thor decided he was going to throw his hammer into a wall one morning because they were out of poptarts, at least there would be less of a breeze in the hole since they weren’t high up.

“You should really take care of that punching bag thing though, I don’t think that’s healthy stress relief compared to other things,” Tony quipped, and Steve just rolled his eyes.

“I don’t want to know your definition of ‘healthy’ and ‘other things’ Tony.”

They finally stopped at a door in some hallway very, very far away from where they had started. The door was in worse condition than any of the others, The wood burnt at the edges and several dents in it,and a small, carved sign hung on the door saying “Laboratory of Tony Stark- DO NOT ENTER”.

“Is this your room as a kid?” Steve asked with a smile sliding onto his face, and Tony shrugs,

“It did for the time being, until I went off to college. One room in this house I ever liked being in, it was exactly how I always wanted it. Robots, cowboys, the whole little boy extravaganza. Mostly robots though, because robots are clearly the superior-est of childhood fads,” Steve wasn’t going to mention that superior-est wasn’t a word. Tony pushed open the door, and Steve saw that nostalgic smile he got whenever he went back to Brooklyn, “Oh, look at this! It’s my first robot, isn’t he adorable?” Tony lifts some sort of wire and metal plated monstrosity in Steve’s opinion off the desk table, several papers covered in equations and schematics rustling from under it.

“What exactly was that supposed to be even?” Steve choked out.

Tony examined it, scrunching up his face in concentration, “I think it was originally supposed to be a robot dog, like K-9, but then I wanted one of those battle robots, so I started on that, and then I just started to randomly add and take away stuff as time went on,” He dumped it back on the desk with a metallic crunch, and moved on to exploring everything else he could, sometimes picking up random objects and trying to explain them to steve before just dumping them on the desk, creating a growing pile of stuff Steve assumed that Tony meant to take home, but they had actually no way of getting most of it downstairs and to the car.

While Tony was off in nostalgia land from the times building stuff in his childhood, Steve wandered over to the closet out of curiosity. He hadn’t known actually what he was expecting, but he really should have seen what had been coming.

“Tony,” He called back, “Is this a mini-shrine to me in your closet?” Because that’s what it is, with a huge poster and about eight different action figures, and trading cards which Steve thought he should really show agent Coulson, and even a child’s costume.

Tony froze.

“I thought I’d gotten rid of that,” He said quickly, and almost dashed across the room ( because it was seriously large enough to dash across), and pushed the sliding door shut on the small shrine. Tony attempted to look calm and cool and collected and not at all embarrassed in anyway. Steve just smirked and honest-to-god smirk.

“Oh hey, look, other stuff from my childhood, come on, look over here, and get away from that freaking door Rogers,” He growled, and Steve laughed but does as he’s told.

Tony opened another closest, still red in the face and checking inside for anything too embarrassing, “Good, just clothing. Why did mom even keep this stuff, did she ever think I was really going to have kids?” He mumbled, pulling out tiny pairs of overalls, a teen-sized polo shirt, and a suit that smelled of an overabundance of moth balls. He gave them the same look the painting had gotten, before he tossed them in the general vicinity of the garbage.

Then Steve saw something he recognized, reaching in and pulling it out, “Is this your dad’s suit? I remember this, he wore this when he first showed me my shield!” Steve explained, and Tony pretend gagged.

“Awesome for you two, bonding moment, yay. I used it as a gangster costume when I was sixteen, and almost destroyed it in a lab accident that was in no way my fault. I was barely even in the lab that halloween,” Tony took it, and held it up against himself, “I think I may actually fit now though,” He glanced mischievously up at Steve, “You know what, I’m showing you that I could totally pull off this suit better than my dad now. Wait here for a moment. And no, you are not allowed to go into the newly dubbed closet of shame,” He answered, and rushed off into another door which Steve assumed was a bathroom. He waited patiently, only peeking to the Closet of Shame once. Because really, when you find something like that you want a better look. This time he notices the red, white, and blue wallpaper and the person-sized mountains of comic book in the corners. It is adorable and hilarious to him.

And then Tony emerged and Steve wasn’t sure he could properly function for a good thirty seconds. Because Tony does carry the suit better than his father; much, much better. The lines, however wrinkled, make him look skinny while still having a nice, muscular torso, and the pinstripes make him look even better. Steve had never been more attracted to a person in bright red suspenders before, but with Tony’s confident smile Steve would go weak at the knees if he was still the little guy from before. Even the little bowtie added, somehow, to Tony’s dashing looks.

“Wow,” He managed to get out of his mouth, and Tony just smiled wider.

“Ogle all you want Rogers, I know I look good,” Steve considered that an understatement, and just moves forward almost in a trance to look at him.

“You’re right Stark, your father didn’t wear this suit half as well as you do right now,” His voice was strained, and his brain had been trying to make syllables into words that could form into maybe a coherent and intelligent sentence. The coherent part was working, the intelligent part, however, had decided to stop functioning.

“You know you’re just inflating my ego even more now, please, keep going on,” But then Tony moved, and Steve can only watch him go, and refuses to see if Tony looks just as good in those pants from behind as well. But he is a respectable man, and he is not going to stare any longer, even if Tony is practically begging for it and teasing, and being not fair, at least in Steve’s expert opinion.

He’s a proper man, Steve had to remind himself. Proper men don’t ogle their friends in old suits, even when they look like they’re made for it. And he did remind himself of this, every single time Tony bent over or stretched, or did something that made the suit pull along his body. At the same time, he looked at Tony from the artist in him, how the lines formed by Tony’s fit body are continued and emphasized by the crisp pants and shirt, and how much he would like to draw Tony like this.

So he continued through the day thoroughly conflicted, watching Tony and mutely helping him lift things and carry them out. He attempted to focusing on other things at times, but Tony just drags attention back to him in general. So Steve began to ignore the suit as much as he could, and just watch Tony’s face.

That did not help much either.

When Steve was loading the final box of things into the car, the sun was low in the sky “You know, I think I’m going to wear this to Pepper and Happy’s wedding. A regular suit is too boring for them, I wouldn’t allow myself. Either this or the Iron Man suit, what are the chances of them letting me in with the armor?” Tony asked from the front seat.

“Do you often measure things by the potential to wear them to your ex-girlfriends weddings?” Steve said, ignoring the obvious answer to Tony.

“It’s Pepper, so of course. If it’s not fit for Pepper’s events, it’s not fit for any event.”

“And the team’s opinions don’t matter?”

Tony gives him a look, “Thor thinks dressed up involves velvet capes and armor, I don’t trust him farther than I can throw his hammer. Bruce, he ideal clothing is disposable, enough said. And Clint and Natasha work for SHEILD, have you seen some of the stuff their poor interns wear?”

“And me?” Steve climbs in next to Tony, and Tony just gave him a small smirk.

“You matter, but on a completely different scale than Pepper or the others.” Steve blushed, “Now come on, before the Team destroys my house again. I’m not dealing with Pepper this time,” Steve shuddered at the memory of Pepper’s anger, and agreed as they drove back into the streets of New York city.


End file.
